Translation
by RenkonNairu
Summary: Three mostly un-connected stories. Chalant, Spitfire, Supermartian, Lagoonmartian.


Disclaimer: I do not own either Young Justice or its related characters. Such are the property of DC Comics, Warner Bros. Entertainment and Cartoon Network. I'm just borrowing them for some non-profit entertainment.

(A/N: This fic is dedicated to Goldenstripe2510. HAPPY HOLIDAYS! From your Secret Santa.)

Translation:

**The Late Christmas** or **The Quickly Improvised Anniversary**

Christmas eve in Gotham wasn't really all that different from a normal eve in Gotham. The only substantial difference was that the villains forwent their normal 'gothic' themes in favor of more fanciful, festive themes. They might be psychotic, homicidal maniacs, but let it never be said that the criminals of Gotham lacked whimsy.

But they kept Batman and Robin busy enough that by the time the Dynamic Duo finally called it a night, Dick barely had time to shower and change before zettaing to the Cave for the Team's Christmas Day bash and Secret Santa gift exchange. (He got M'gann. That was a slam dunk. Blu-Ray box set of 'Hello, Megan' with special collector's edition cheerleader's pin. Ha!)

His gift to M'gann was way better than Roquel's gift to him. The complete works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Oh come on! Not only did the Wayne manor library have a very nice antique set, but Dick also already had his own copies. Still, it was the thought that counted and since he was forced to keep his identity and everything pertaining to it a secret, the only thing she had to work with was the fact that he was a detective. From that view, it was a very thoughtful gift.

Though, it wasn't anywhere near as cute as Zatanna's gift to Conner. 'Pixie Dust'. It was really just glitter in a bottle. But on the back of the bottle under 'Instructions' was written, "Think of a wonderful thought. Any happy little thought. Think of Christmas, think of snow, think of sleigh bells –off you go! Like reindeer in the sky. You can fly! You can fly! You can fly!"

It was really the cutest thing Dick had ever seen and he couldn't help but feel a slight welling of pride that he was dating this cute, clever and brilliant girl.

Sadly, Supey had never seen Peter Pan (or any Disney movie for that matter –Clark was, apparently, still failing in the parenting department. No Disney! What kind of person _are _you!?), and so the joke went right over his head.

Luckily, the Team managed to stop him before he could jump off any high ledges. It wasn't that they were worried he might hurt himself; they just didn't want to have to deal with explaining the crater to the locals.

It was as the party was dwindling down, and every one coming down from their candy cane induced sugar highs that Zatanna sidled up next to him. She leaned in close, as if to sneak a kiss, but at the last moment turned her face and whispered in his ear, "So, where's my present?"

"What?" Behind his dark shades, Dick blinked at her in confusion.

The teen sorceress gave an adorable little pout. "You mean you didn't get me anything for Christmas? Your own girlfriend!"

"I didn't know you expected me to." He admitted.

"Well poo." She sighed, tossing a small box from one hand to the other. "I guess you'll just have to wait until our anniversary before you get this then."

"Anniversary?" Dick once again found himself blinking in confusion.

"Don't tell me you forgot that too!" Zatanna looked scandalized. "One year from our first kiss. New Years! Okay, so admittedly, a lot of other huge stuff happened around the same time. So I guess I'll forgive you not realizing it this time. But this is your only free pass, mister!"

Dick felt like someone had ripped the floor out from under him and he was falling without a grappling gun. "O-okay. New Years. Our anniversary. I'll get you something special."

She instantly brightened. Flashing him a dazzling smile that did funny things to his stomach, like there was a swarm of butterflies battering to get out. It made his throat go dry and his palm go sweaty. Then, Zatanna grabbed him, pulling him close and planted one of her patent-pending aggressive kisses on him and his brain went all fuzzy.

"By the way," she muttered to his bottom lip. "Happy Christmas."

…

"Something special', what the hell was I thinking!?" Dick lamented some time later.

Sadly, Bruce did not seem particularly sympathetic as he swerved the batmobile around corners at speeds that would have seemed suicidal to anyone outside of a Grand Theft Auto game.

"Not only do I not have any idea what 'special' thing I could possibly give her, but this would also be our _first_ anniversary. So, this will set the bar for all other anniversary gifts in the future. If I make it too 'special' then I set myself up to disappoint her later. If make it too 'un-special' I have plenty of room for improvement in the future, but she'll be mad at me for a whole year! Girls are such high maintenance!"

The Dark Knight's only response was a slight smirk, which he quickly turned into a grimace before it could ruin his image. He was the night, and the night did not smirk.

"What'd you get Salina for Christmas?" Asked the little Robin, searching for inspiration.

"Lint roller." Bruce answered with gruff frankness.

Beneath his domino mask, Dick raised an eyebrow. "That doesn't sound very romantic."

"Its practical." Bruce explained. "She has cats." Then after a pause, added. "Practical gifts make the best gifts. Get her some sage, or something basic from that occult shop on 33rd street. Something she could use in either her personal practice or on missions."

"Uh… I'll think about it…"

…

"In my day, Master Richard, a gentleman accompanied his gifts with a heartfelt letter, or if he was so inclined –poetry. That way, even if the young suitor's gift fell flat, his lady-love might not notice and focus solely on his words and declarations of affection."

Dick looked skeptically at the old butler. Alfred was standing, back straight, one arm tucked around the small of his back as he dusted a bookshelf in Bruce's study. He was hiding it well, but Dick could just make out the subtle pull at the corners of his mouth that indicated the man was fighting hard to suppress a smile.

"Are you serious?"

"Quite." Alfred nodded. Dusting over the same spot. He probably already finished the whole study hours ago and was only using the cleaning as an excuse because Dick was in here agonizing over his woman troubles. Girls were such high maintenance!

…

Admittedly, Dick hadn't meant to end-up hanging out with Clark. It just sort of happened that way.

He and Conner met-up in Metropolis to do some shopping. He wanted the advice of someone who'd already had a one year anniversary. Conner, needed to buy some things for the New Years party M'gann was throwing for the Team and some of the items required slightly less strait-forward means of procurement. The help of a Robin was much in need.

So, while Dick helped Conner track down someone who'd be willing to sell illegal fireworks to a pair of teenagers, Conner regaled Dick with stories of his first anniversary with M'gann.

For a couple of super-powered aliens working on a super-secret Team for the Justice League, they certainly made one boring-ass couple! Seriously, it was all baking this, and candle-lit dinner that, and rose petals on the bed, and-

"Whoa! Supey! There are some things you don't need to share!"

Then Toyman showed up and Superboy and Robin were glad for the distraction from a conversation that had suddenly turned very awkward.

Then Superman showed up.

That brought Dick up to his current state. Sitting on the roof of the Daily Planet building, legs dangling over the side, still in full Robin the Boy Wonder raiment, licking an ice cream cone. Was it to cold for ice cream? Probably. It was late December, after all. But did he care? No.

Conner sat on his left. Clark on his right. Both had identical ice creams, type of cone, flavor, and toppings. If Supey had any Luthor blood in him, it didn't manifest in his ice cream preferences.

"The thing about giving gifts," Clark was saying, "is that it has to come from the heart. It doesn't matter how expensive it is or how much they might have wanted it. It's the effort, or thought you put into it that makes them really appreciate it."

The Man of Steel paused to lick his ice cream leisurely.

"Take Lois and I for example. For our one year anniversary, I made her a fake newspaper." He continued. "It was cheap and easy, but she loved it. Why? Well, she'd always been mad at me for beating her to the first Superman story. So, I made a fake newspaper from Krypton where Lois Lane beat Kal-El to the first news story of a strange visitor from the planet Earth. Basically, I reversed our roles in a funny way."

"Gawd! That is so cheesy, it could have only come from you!" Dick shook his head.

"Hey, I think it's cute." Conner chimed in.

"Ugh. _You would_." Then, to Clark he said, "Zee and I first met at the Cave, just before we all disobeyed orders and went on a vendetta against Red Tornado."

Clark licked his ice cream, not bothered to hurry with his replies. "It doesn't have to be about how you met. It just has to be something the two of you share. Something that while other people might get it, has deeper significance for the both of you." He paused for thought. "You still speak a little Romani, right?"

"Yeah…" Dick answered slowly, not knowing where he was going with this.

"Well, Zatanna Zatara also speaks Romani."

Dick thought about that for a moment.

…

Bright green and yellow wrapping paper was ripped asunder as Zatanna opened her anniversary present from her boyfriend. Or her late-Christmas present. They were calling it both. She paused when she saw what was inside, all organized into neatly labeled zip-lock bags.

"Sage, amber, white angelica root, candles of various colors…?" She looked up at the Boyfriend Wonder.

He shrugged. "Batman said that practical gifts were best. All this is stuff you can use in your spellcraft. And if you want, I can get you a belt like mine so you can take it with you on missions."

Zatanna just looked at him. Yup. He was definitely the Batman's protégé alright! Zee had heard a rumor that the Dark Knight's idea of a good gift to his lady friend was a litter scooper. Oh, Rob! Please don't turn into your mentor. He sucks all the romance out of romance.

"You don't like it." Robin pouted.

"No, no. I do. It's very… practical. Thank you."

"Damn. I knew I should have paid more attention to Superman and Agent A. Oh well, read the card."

So, she opened the generic looking Hallmark envelope and withdrew… a very un-generic looking sheet of parchment paper. Vintage, not that commercially produced stuff they sell at stationary stores like Papyrus. Written on the parchment was what looked like a lengthy letter in Dick's closest approximation of 'calligraphy'. But most striking of all, it wasn't written in English, it was Romani –one of the twelve languages of the homo-magi, her people.

"Oh my god… Rob…"

"Oh, I guess I listened to Supes and Agent A after all." He grinned like a troll. "Happy one year anniversary, Zee."

It was one of those magically romantic moments that Dick always thought only ever existed in Disney movies. But this was real and it was happening to him. It was so sweet, it was almost sticky. So cheesy, he could almost smell it. That blush in her cheeks as she read his letter was so attractive and so gratifying. Dick leaned in to seal the moment with a kiss and officially notarize it as a perfect Disney moment. But before his lips could brush hers…

…She snorted. With laughter. Zatanna snorted with laughter.

"What?"

She looked up at him, trying very hard not to laugh. "Robin, how much Romani do you actually know?"

He was suddenly slightly offended. It was his first language. From the time he was born to when his parents passed away when he was nine, he only knew enough English to manage being polite to the marks –ahm, circus goers. Romani was his parent's language. "Why do you ask?"

"Its just that… I _think_ you're trying to say 'my deep affection' here, but what you actually wrote translates as 'my deep fastening'." She tried to hold back another laugh.

"Well, I haven't spoken or written it in five years! Give it back and I'll fix it."

"No. This is priceless! I'm never letting this go!"

…

"**My Carburetor Beats for You"** or **In Which Google-Translator Fails Are Romantic**

Wally sighed in contentment. He might always forget Valentines Day and he might have forgotten his own anniversary too if it weren't for Rob's panicky pleadings for advice on his with Zatanna. But if his faulty speedster memory bothered Artemis, it didn't show in her gift to him.

Food. A home-cooked meal. Eleven courses.

And it was pretty damn good, too! He never would have imagined her as the 'domestic' type. He might even be able to stave-off hunger for a whole hour! Yup. This one was a keeper!

"Ya know…" Artemis began slowly, leaning over the table almost expectantly. "Robin wrote Zee a poem for their anniversary. She was waving that thing around and quoting it ad nausium all night. I think even M'gann wanted to punch her by the time midnight finally rolled around."

He paused for a moment, fork half-way to his lips as Wally turned that non-sequitur over in his mind. "So… is that your way of saying that you don't want us to become one of those annoying couples, or that you do want me to write you a lame cheesy poem? 'Cause I'm not so much with the words."

"Neither." She shook her head. "I want you to snag a copy of it so we can feed it into a translator and get some hilarious blackmail material on them."

There was a beat of silence.

Then, "Babe, I knew I loved you for a reason!"

Then he was gone in the blink of an eye with nothing to announce his leaving but a rush of air. But just as soon as he was gone, he reappeared again, reaching his hand into her jeans pocket.

"Can I borrow your phone? Your camera's better than mine."

Then he was gone again.

This time slightly longer.

When he did reappear again, Wally sported a black eye, but was holding Artemis' phone triumphantly. "Got it!"

They pulled up Google Translator on the Cave's computer and fed in the poem exactly as the Boy Wonder had written it.

"Well, read it out loud." Artemis commanded.

"What, really?" Wally whined. "I already got socked in the face by a girl for you, I have to read this sappy crap too?"

"Do it, and I might indulge your food kink later."

"Oh! Well in that case…" The speedster cleared his throat and began to read. "'My dearest, your eyes are like pools of midnight-" he tried had to suppress giggles, 'pools of midnight', really Rob?- "your lips like temprapedic pillows. That night, one year ago when you grabbed me and pressed your pillowed lips to mine, I couldn't think but for the beating of my carburetor-' Carburetor?"

"Exactly how accurate is this translator?" Artemis giggled.

"It's Google, it can't be _that_ bad…"

"Well, keep reading then." She urged him. "This is hilarious!"

Not even trying to fight the urge to giggle and snicker now, Wally continued, "'This past year my deep fastenings for you have expanded even deeper. You are my sun, my moon, my sky of bright celestial bodies, I dwell in absence of light without you.' He took that line from a movie!"

"Keep going!"

"That's it." Wally told her. "That's all he wrote."

"Aw… that's to bad, I was having fun." She gave an adorable little pout.

"I can keep saying random stuff, if you like." Wally offered quickly. Anything to get her to indulge in his food kink later.

"No… no… its fine." Her shoulders shook as her laughter subsided. "But, oh man! Why'd Rob even bother trying to write in Romani? That was just terrible."

"Hey, the guy _speaks_ Romani." Wally defended. "I bet if you tried to write a poem in Vietnamese and I fed it into Google Translator it'd sound just as bad."

"Oh? And what makes you think I speak Vietnamese?"

"Wally blinked at her. "I thought you were half-Vietnamese."

"And I think you're half-Scottish, lets hear some Gaelic."

"Alright, alright… I see your point." He placated.

Artemis smiled at her triumph. They both knew who was the top dog in this relationship, but it never hurt to remind him every now and again. "I do know one phrase in Vietnamese, though…"

"Okay, what is it?"

Her triumphant smile turned coy as she came around the table. Sidling up against lithe body, she leaned up, as if to kiss him and whispered, "8_Bo che hoa khi cua toi danh bai cho ban_."

"Whoah…" He breathed. "And what does that mean?"

"Feed it into Google Translator and find out."

"You're evil."

"Now, is that any way to talk to the woman who's about to indulge your food fetish?" From the table, she plucked the bottles of syrup, chocolate sauce, and ketchup.

"Oh, my goddess, Artemis…" He muttered, following her towards the bedroom. "Please forgive me my offenses as I worship you this evening…"

…

It was not until some years later, when they were both attending the same university and taking the same Vietnamese class that the subject of poetry was revisited.

Once again for their anniversary.

Artemis had placed the whipped cream and honey on the bedside table –wordlessly. Just seeing them made Wally's throat go dry and he croaked and stumbled over the first line of the poem he'd composed for her. He cleared his throat and tried again…

"Exploding sock puppets are nothing new,

Dirigible forks, we've been through that too.

These past five years have been weird.

But so long as I've had you, I never feared.

I may not be the best ever orator,

But I just gotta say, for you beats my carburetor."

Artemis didn't know whether to giggle at the sheer ridiculousness, or put her hand to her indecently exposed chest and say, "Awww… My carburetor beats for you too!"

Wally crawled onto the bed to join her. As he reached over for the can of whipped cream, he whispered, "9_Bo che hoa khi cua toi danh bai cho ban_."

…

**Hovercraft** or **In which Superboy Pulls One Over on Lagoon Boy **

"Ya know, Robin gave Zatanna a poem in Romani for their anniversary." M'gann whispered softly, almost sultrily into the ear of the demi-kryptonian sprawled next to her.

"Mmph." Conner's response was a non-committal grunt, muffled by his pillow. For an alien shape-shifter from a species that didn't perform physical intercourse naturally, she sure knew how to wear him out. Lifting his head enough to be understood without telepathy, he asked, "Wally's vowed to learn Vietnamese for Artemis, too."

"Are you gonna ask me to teach you Martian?"

At that question he had to raise himself into a proper sitting position to look at her directly. "Do _you_ want me to learn Martian?"

"Only if you do." She assured him, her pink lips stretching into a sweet smile.

This was one of those annoying traps that women set from time to time. After a year and a half together, Conner was finally beginning to recognize them. She said it was up to him, that it was his choice and there was no right answer. But there actually _was_ a right answer and if he didn't say it, then she'd be mad at him for the rest of the night (and possibly well into the morning). Damn it.

"I, uh… I want to learn your language." He said, hoping it was the right answer.

Apparently, this was the correct answer because that sweet smile turning into one of true pleasure and she let out a soft squeal. "Oh, this'll be so great! Although… it might be a little difficult since you're not a telepath. But I'm sure we'll work something out."

…

Over the next few months M'gann worked with Conner to try and teach him a telepathy-based language without telepathy. Needless to say, it did not go over to smoothly. When they were mind-linked the demi-kryptonian managed to communicate with something akin to a thick broken accent. But without the aid of an establish link… well, things were awkward.

"What'd you just say about my mother!?"

"What!?" Conner did a double take, suddenly panicked over her split-second turn to anger. "No, no, no! I didn't mention your mother at all! I was trying to comment on the weather."

"Oh."

Or another time when they were in her bedroom, in the throws of passion, Conner thought it would be exceedingly romantic to proclaim 'I love you!' in Martian during climax. But to his great horror, she stopped what she was doing and giggled.

"What did you just say?"

Well, that certainly ruined a moment. Talk about frustrating! But he repeated himself anyway, because, really, nothing could make this situation any _more_ uncomfortable for him.

And she giggled again. "Really? Eels, huh. That's interesting."

Finally, there came a point where they both had to admit that a non-telepath just couldn't learn a telepathy-based language, no matter how hard they tired. So, reluctantly and with great disappointment on both their parts, they gave up.

…

Their relationship progressed as most young loves tend to, but their break-up was remarkably civil (by all outward appearances at least), and they continued to work on the Team with little effect to their work performance.

Things did become tense when M'gann began dating the new Lagoon Boy and that tension lasted longer than many of the other Team members felt it should. But after his capture and subsequent rescue from enemy hands, the Lagoon Boy and Superboy began a tentative peace.

They would still circle each other and growl occasionally, but overall, the tone of their confrontations slowly morphed from repressed and hostile to light banter between frienemies.

Then, one day, the Lagoon Boy asked Conner for some advice.

"I wanna tell Angel-fish I love her." He announced, flopping down on the couch next to the demi-kryptonian and interrupting whatever game he'd been playing.

The Superboy gave him a long quizzical look. "Do you want my permission or something?"

"I wanna tell it to her in Martian." Clarified the atlantian.

Oh. Oh!… Well… Heh. True, they might not hold such animosity for each other as they had in earlier days, but they were still my no means 'friends'. The term 'frienemies' fit them far better and the Lagoon Boy had just gifted his arch frienemy with the perfect opportunity to pull one over on him.

The Superboy paused his game and turned his full attention to his Teammate. "Well, there is one phrase I remember that you can tell her."

And they spent the next several hours practicing that Martian phrase…

…

Superboy was in the hangar with Robin when something hard and slightly wet came sailing through the air and hit the demi-kryptonian on the side of the head. He picked up the wet beach stone and looked at it curiously before following its trajectory back to the hangar's main entrance where the Lagoon Boy stood, glaring. Actually, more than just glaring, looking as pissed off as could possibly look without turning red and exploding.

Conner smiled. "So, how'd it go?"

"_My hovercraft is full of eels_!" Shouted the Lagoon Boy; practically spitting with the words he was so angry.

The Superboy just grinned an evil grin. "Well, then stop parking it under the sea."

…


End file.
